


You Make Me Begin

by Aliiya258



Series: Perihelion [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Yuri Plisetsky, Begging, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Grinding, I Have No Real Explanation for This, Light Angst, Lots of kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Semi-Public Blow Jobs, Semi-public hand jobs, There's a plot in here somewhere, light anal play, unintentional edging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 15:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9447614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aliiya258/pseuds/Aliiya258
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky had always been in control. It anchored him, drove him.Made him an athlete.But after winning the Grand Prix Final, something in him was still...missing. There was an ache he just couldn't soothe.Part of him already knew he’d found the cure -- Hasetsu had been like nothing else. But to admit that again would mean getting too close, and getting too close meant learning how to lose some of that control...





	

**Author's Note:**

> A fic Inspired by [this](http://anime-nia.tumblr.com/post/154883422932/yuuri-phone-starts-ringing-yurio-looks-to-see) post that....completely spiraled out of control, this one is for you, Catherine~!
> 
> And innumerable thanks to my Editor-in-Chief, [Morgan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mournless), who let me bug the shit out of him the entire time I was writing this.
> 
> Please note: Yuri Plisetsky has been aged up to about 21 or 22. Everyone else remains the same.
> 
> Edit: Don't ever let me post a first-draft summary ever again.

"What the hell..." Yurio whispers as he leans heavily against the bathroom stall door, teeth grit hard against the shakes. His heart is hammering in his chest, and he leans back, staring at he ceiling. Yurio's long blond hair, which he kept braided on one side, falls to the middle of his back at the motion.

It had been a joke, what he said -- a simple teasing that was surely meant to embarrass the katsudon. A joke that would elicit a reaction, would allow Yurio to see, if only temporarily, that gentle flush of his skin, and the way his eyes would light up in surprise, his mouth parted, flustered and warm and...

Yurio swallows, breathless and remembering. The steadiness of Katsuki Yuuri's direct gaze as his long fingers -- one being graced with a ring that _wasn't his_ \-- answered the call. Daddy.

_Hey Viktor._

That struck Yurio hard, sending conflicting signals to his heart and groin that caused him to sputter and choke on his champagne. That had been... far more than he'd expected to learn about the katsudon and his lover -- fiancé being too hard a word to swallow or accept -- and yet, watching them at the GPF banquet tonight and how they interacted, huddled close, voices low, Viktor growling in Katsuki's ear....it made sense. Viktor always managed to elicit a reaction from Yuuri, managed to send that obvious shiver up and down his spine, all the while maintaining an air of protectiveness that Yuri could never hope to match.

But, _god_ , did he want to.

Yuri curled into himself, his arms wrapped around his middle. If he could control his breathing, he would be fine. He could go out there and snap at the katsudon and glare and smirk like he'd originally planned, if only he could slow his heart rate. He could go back out there and finish the night without incident, if only he could just get the fire in his belly to subside...

His hands have gone clammy clutched to the outer fabric of his jacket and he attempts to wipe them dry, first on the jacket itself then again on the outsides of his pants, careful not to agitate the growing bulge of his erection. But the slightest touch, the smallest tug left him wanting, and for a moment Yuri Plisetsky let his mind wander.

_Yuuri knelt wide, naked and blindfolded on a bed, arms and chest bound by rope dyed a deep crimson. The rich color contrasted beautifully with the smooth porcelain of his skin, while the rope's intricate designs held just enough pressure to imprint their art onto his skin for hours after their removal. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat that highlighted every curve, every inch, and every angle of his body._

Yuri rolls his hips at the image, the slow stroking of his pants no longer meant for his hands.

_The knots were tied with precision - flower-shaped medallions down his chest towards his groin, circle loops binding back arms and arching his back as if in an arabesque. His nipples, pert and exposed, stiffened as Yuri leaned in, taking one fully into his mouth, then the other. Yuuri gasped under the young man's ministrations and fought to keep his voice low when he pulled at them with his teeth._

Yuri brushed a hand over the outline of his erection and hissed to stifle his groan.

_The second set of ropes wrapped delicately around Yuuri's thighs and between them, tied separately, carefully as a sort of cock ring that left Yuuri exposed, erect and dripping. Yuri took him by the hips with one hand and pulled him close, stroking the soft skin of his ass, while the other caressed his face, his thumb trailing across his bottom lip. Yuuri's tongue flicks out tentatively before taking it into his mouth, warm and wet and massaging. Yuri's heart rate spiked as he watched Yuuri's mouth work. He slipped his hand away against Yuuri protests, and switched to his middle finger which the dark-haired man greedily accepted._

Yuri covers his mouth to muffle his panting as he unbuckles his pants and slides his hand inside. Pre-cum soaks the tip of his cock and he gives himself one long stroke, his hips bucking in pleasure as he pressed his thumb against his slit.

_"I can be your daddy too," Yuri growls into the skin of his neck, biting and nipping, relishing in every tremor that pulses through Yuuri's body as the dark-haired man's cock twitched desperately for attention. Yuri smiled and, removing his fingers from Yuuri's mouth, slid them between the cheeks of his ass and pressed against his opening._

_"'Ahn!" Yuuri exclaimed, followed by the most enticing moan from deep within his throat, begging in Japanese for just one kiss. "Please..."_

Swearing under his breath, Yuri loses himself to the feel of his hands stroking back and forth on his shaft, slowly at first, achingly, the friction sweet and warm and building. The fire in his belly grows with his increasing speed and spreads into a flush that colors his face and chest. His panting is soft and controlled, but loud in his ears as his own mouth yearns for stimulation.

_Yuri's lips hovered over Katsuki's, torturous inches from his, as he caresses Yuuri's cock with reverence. He listened to his panting deepen to groans as he teased and stroked the other man, feeling him tremble at his every touch. Yuuri strained forward, burying his face in Yuri's shoulder, painfully hard and thrusting against the blond as much as the ropes allowed. Yuri's thumb grazed the sensitive spot behind the tip of his cock and Yuuri reacted, biting the collar of his shirt as his voice hitched upward two octaves._

_"There?" Yuri asked smirking, captivated by the way his face contorted and flushed, his ecstasy palpable._

_Katsuki Yuuri could only whine in quiet assent, "Yes, Daddy."_

"Oh, fuck...!" Yuuri's nipples stiffen with arousal, an undeniable sign of his oncoming climax, his breath long past heavy and unbidden. But there’s still just so much that he wants. To taste and be tasted, to touch and be touched -- these desires swirl and collide within him, adding to his pleasure, his _need_. "Ahhh...Yuuri..."

"...Yurio?"

The bathroom door clicks softly into place, and Yuri Plisetsky goes completely still.

For a moment he thinks he's misheard, his imagination having run completely wild. So he waits. He waits as his heart thunders in his ears. He waits, not daring the slightest shift or movement. He waits as the the whole of his member calls for his resumed attention. But, no, he's alone. He's alone because he has to be. The katsudon is outside in the banquet hall, completely enraptured with his Viktor and the others like always, entirely unconcerned with anything that has to do with him and--

There's a knock against the stall door, and Yuri's heart leaps in his chest. He shuts his eyes tight against the vibrations. _This can't be happening._

"Yurio?" Yuuri calls again, closer this time. "Yurio, are you alright?"

Yuri releases a shaken breath but he doesn't respond. He quickly adjusts himself and his clothing back into place, doing what he can to mask his erection. He focuses next on his breathing, though he isn't so sure his voice won't shake if he speaks. The silence stretches for a long moment, then another, languid and tense as he runs a panicked hand through his long blond strands. Of all the people to come looking for him, it had to be Yuuri. How long had he been there? How much had he heard?

The sound of shuffling feet. Another gentle knock. "Yurio?"

 _Don't call me that._ "The hell do you want, piggy?" Good. Retaliate. Nice and even, like normal.

"Can you come out here a second?"

"...What for?"

"I just want to make sure you're okay. You disappeared all of a sudden and I--"

"I'm fine. Go bother someone else." If he can keep this up until the katsudon left, there’s a chance Yuri could escape the banquet hall all together. The shock of being interrupted has doused the fire in him by degrees, but he needs more time. Whether it be time to finish or to soften, he can't quite decide. "I'm sure there's _someone_ out there who'd want your disgusting attention. So spare me."

Yuuri sighed. "Yurio, please. Open the door."

"No! I said I'm fine." Yuuri's voice is so soft and so close, he can practically feel it on his neck and the tingling trail it left behind, pushing Yuri towards one desire over the other. Suddenly, the image of Yuuri bound in crimson rope flashes in his mind, the lean skater hard and defenseless and begging for release, and that rising desire begins to stir within him once more. _Fffuck, this is bad._

He hears more shuffling from the other side of the stall door -- footsteps, the movement of clothing, a soft thump against the far wall. The fuck is he doing out there...? Then, nothing. The silence stretches and the tension about Yuri’s shoulders only increases. He hadn’t heard him exit, so what could have made him fall so quiet that --

"Yuri.”

His breath catches. He'd only heard Yuuri use that tone of voice with Viktor. And with Viktor _only_.

“Come out here."

It was no gentle plea. No soft question, or kind coaxing. It was an irrefutable command, and it sent Yuri's heart racing.

Yuri moves before he realizes it, hand on the latch and sliding it open. He hesitates just long enough to set his face to a convincing scowl before stepping back and jerking open the door. “What?”

Katsuki Yuuri stands almost a head shorter than him. His black slacks and white dress shirt fit him obscenely well, though curiously, his jacket and tie are missing. Yuuri’s dark hair, which he'd kept slicked back during his free skate, has come undone, the fringes falling long about his eyes and cheeks. His large blue glasses gave him that boyish look Yuri loved, but coupled with the sharpness of his jaw and the determination in his eyes, Yuri just wants to reach out and…

Tease.

Yuri tilts his head and smirks as he leans in the doorway, drinking him in. His gaze openly roves about the Japanese man’s frame with hunger. His golden hair shifts with the movement, cascading over his shoulders and back as his hands found their way into his pockets. Yuuri immediately notices the change. Though he doesn’t back away, his look of command fizzles, fading into something… softer. Headier.

_There._

“So...was there something you wanted?”

“I…” Yuuri starts, though it came out as more of a sigh. It colored his expression in the most tempting way and Katsuki gazes up at him, transfixed. Yuri raises a brow and pushes off the door, takes a step forward. “I…um...”

Yuri’s smirk turns devilish.

“You...what?” He lifts a hand and brushes a lock of hair behind Yuuri’s ear. Yuuri stammers softly, struggling not to shiver at the touch as Yuri’s fingers linger on the bare skin of his neck. They lace through the fine hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, while his other hand lifts Yuuri’s chin level to his own. Yuri’s heart hammers in his chest, his entire body coursing with electricity, as he leans down, lips parted, _ever wanting _...__

“I told you he'd be naughty, Yuuri.”

Both men freeze, and Yuri rolls his eyes to the ceiling in disbelief. Yuuri takes a step back and sighs, his hand on his chest. His cheeks are a delicious tint of pink. The dark-haired man makes his way over, smiling sheepishly as as Yuri straightens, his hands finding their way back into their pockets. His gaze slides cooly to the beautiful, tall man leaning against the far wall. “Viktor.”

The silver-haired skater winks, but otherwise makes no attempt to move. Yuuri’s black jacket and tie are folded neatly in his arms. The two huddle close, gazing at each other with such bright eyes and so much affection.

"You still haven't asked, love."

“I know.” Yuuri looks away, a little embarrassed, but Viktor catches his chin. “I just...got distracted.”

“Do you want my help?"

Something twisted in Yuri’s gut, and he had to turn away. He didn't want to hear this. Didn't want to...feel this. Before the GPF, before the exhibition in Hasetsu, it had been just the three of them, skating and laughing and striving...together. A part of him had thought -- had _hoped_ \-- it would be like that, always.

But now, with his gold medal and their gold rings? He felt a sort of a pride, sure. A certain kind of joy. But Yuri couldn't deny the rift that had grown between them, one that hurt far, far too much to consider. Maybe if he hadn't gone back to Russia...

Yuri runs a hand through his hair and he brushes past the couple towards the door. _This has nothing to do with me._

"Hold on, Yuri.”

Viktor’s hand catches Yuri’s, and flashes of a residual daydream rise to the surface: a heart-shaped mouth brushing against his, silver hair twisted around his fingers, warm hands scratching down to the small of his back...

Yuri had long ago written them off as the products of childish fantasies, adoration of a man turned idol. Hero worship.

_But...what if it wasn't?_

He turns to find Viktor’s expression kind, full of meaning. His cerulean eyes are steady and waiting. Yuuri stands beside him and he almost seemed...nervous? No…

Excited.

Yuri glances at their hands intertwined and his brow tightens despite himself. This... felt too good. Too right. Too close to... back then. “What… what is this?”

Viktor pulls him closer, and Yuri allows himself to be drawn in, completely unaware of his own quickening breath. A glance shared between Yuuri and Viktor tightens his brow even further.

“What is this?” Yuri says again, harder this time, focus jumping between the two skaters.

“An invitation."

“An in…?” Yuri begins to pull away, but he stops himself. _What if?_ “To what?”

“Whatever you want.” Viktor’s eyes never leave him as he brings up his hand to kiss the center of Yuri’s palm. His lips leave behind an unbelievable tingle that tracks up Yuri’s arm to reignite the fire deep within his belly.

This can't be happening.

Immediately, Yuri has to will himself to focus. His thoughts feel sluggish, frozen in place, yet racing and jumping all at once. He was hyperaware of everything now, from the increased sensitivity of his lips and the small circles Viktor drew on his hand as he talked, to the half-lidded look on Yuuri's face as his eyes tracked over his body. But he missed key moments. This entire time, Viktor had been saying... _something_ , but not a word of it registered. Was it shock? He didn't know. All he knew for sure was that he _wanted so much._

_Fuck it._

Yuri steps forward and brushes his lips against Viktor’s, kissing him softly, almost reverently to silence the man. Surprised, Viktor inhales, then falls into it with ease as Yuuri’s jacket and tie slip to the floor, completely forgotten. Viktor’s arm wraps around him and Yuri can’t help but gasp. He pulls back, hovering mere inches away, reveling in the feel of Viktor’s lips, savoring their taste, and committing it all to memory.

In a daze, Yuri’s gaze flicks up, and he half expects both Viktor and Yuuri to fade into puffs of smoke, for this instant to crumble upon his waking alone in his hotel room. But when he meets Viktor’s eyes, they are more solid than he’d ever seen them. He glances at Yuuri, who leans his head against the wall at the attention, watching entranced.

And, god, when he _smiled_...

_This is real?_

Butterflies bloom in his stomach as Viktor kisses the corner of his mouth, then drawing them down his jaw then up to his ear. Viktor’s lips caress the skin there and Yuri flushes, a moan escaping from him and his arousal grows. His fingers dig into his jacket as Viktor leans into the embrace, the mix of breath, and teeth, and tongue causing the blond to shiver.

Through his haze, Yuri’s eyes land on Yuuri once more, and it almost feels like a touch. Something in his brown eyes had gone calm, deceptively still, as if he were preparing to go out on the ice. Usually Yuri knew better than to interrupt when that look came upon him, but this one was fundamentally different. There was a palpable hunger there that made Yuri whine and plead for him, the ache and heat of his groin edging on too much.

Yuri reaches out, fingers hooking into his belt, and the dark-haired man draws near, taking Yuri’s face in his hand. When their lips meets, Yuri sighs into the kiss, hungry and tasting as if he were afraid this dream would end far, far too soon. Yuuri feels him melt into it, and he smiles, bringing light and joy to his face as the blond nips at his bottom lip, sending a rush through them both. The air was filled with the melody of their panting and Yuri’s arousal grew further, hardening him, causing his hips to rock and shift against the silver-haired skater. Viktor most certainly takes notice.

“This is what you want?” Viktor rumbles, and Yuri can practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Ah, y….yes, Daddy.”

Instantly, Viktor freezes. He pulls back, speechless and searching Yuri’s face with wide eyes.

Yuri quickly realizes what he’s said, how it sounds, and is surprised to find he meant it completely. He looks away, hoping his blush isn’t too obvious. “What? That's what Yuuri calls you. It's even in his phone.”

Viktor hears the small pout in his voice, and his eyes playfully slide to the dark-haired man. Yuuri decidedly avoids the look as he pushes up his glasses. “...Yuuri. Is that why you rushed me off the phone earlier? Why he ran in here when he saw us? You were teasing him.”

“Uhm...well, I …” Yuuri stammered as his shoulders tighten and his eyes refocus. A certain roundness returns to his face along with that adorable tinge of pink. Yuri watched the change, watched it remake him almost anew. The hunger was still there in his eyes, but it was softer, mixed with the sort of boyish charm he had that just made Yuri want to _tease_.

“It's true, Viktor,” Yuri says in his most breathy, defenseless voice. He curls into him and smirked at Yuuri from the safety of Viktor’s arms. Yuuri gapes, wide-eyed and caught off guard. “It was awful.”

“...Is that true, Yuuri? Did you tease him?”

“I... well, I… Okay, yes, but only a little, I promise! It's wasn't nearly as bad as he's making it sound."

“You were _supposed_ to wait from me, love. Come here.”

Yuuri fidgets where he stands, and Yuri _loves_ watching him squirm.

“I said, come here.”

Yuuri shuffles over, shoulders hunched, eyes averted and his blush rising up to his ears. Yuri watches with fascination. He'd never seen him so meek, and it only stirred his desire more.

“Why didn't you wait for me? You know better.”

“I was just having a little fun,” he whines looking away. “I didn't think it was so bad.” Viktor frowns, saying nothing as the silence stretches for one moment, then another. Eventually, Yuuri looks up through his eyelashes. “I'm sorry, Daddy.”

“It's alright.” Viktor kisses the top of his head, and Yuuri visibly relaxes. “If you wish to tease him, you may. But as punishment, no one is allowed to pleasure you. Not even yourself.”

Yuri snaps to attention, mouth hanging open. “No one?!”

“No one,” Viktor repeats. Yuri gaped at Yuuri, but he doesn't look as disappointed as he thought he would. In fact, when Viktor looked away, he almost seemed pleased.

_What? Why?_

“And you.” Viktor extracts himself from the blond, and Yuri feels that smugness drain away instantly. “You're being naughty again.”

“But…” _Daddy_. Yuri shaped his mouth to try saying it again, and _mean_ it, but the word gets caught on his tongue, feeling awkward and heavy as he stammers. How was Yuuri able to say it so easily? He abandons the attempt. “So what? You gonna ‘punish’ me too?”

Viktor raises an eyebrow at the challenge. “I can, if you wish. But do you know what that means?” Viktor leans close to nuzzle his ear with his nose, landing a kiss on Yuri just above his jaw.

The blond strokes Yuuri’s cheek who leans into the touch. “I...have an idea.”

“No,” Yuuri says gently. He takes Yuri’s hand and kisses his knuckles. “You have to say it. Do you know what that means?"

Yuri nods, bashful. “It means I’d get to be yours.” He glances at the silver-haired love of his life and his face blooms with heat. “Both of yours.”

“And,” Viktor adds, “it means that you trust me, trust us. Is that what you want?”

 _I want all of you. Both of you. Always._ But Yuri can't bring himself to voice that. He did still have his pride to consider, after all. Instead, he opts for a quiet, “Yes.”

Then Viktor’s lips are hard against his. It was exactly the kind of kiss that stole Yuri’s breath and weakened his knees. Trembling, Yuri tried to keep pace, tried to prevent himself from being consumed by the ferocity of Viktor’s need. He wasn't used to this feeling, this...powerlessness? No, that wasn't it.

This vulnerability.

It was the first time he felt small in Viktor’s arms, and he was surprised by his resistance to it. Viktor feels him recoil slightly and eases back, slowing their pace to whisper against his lips. “Trust me, Yura.”

Yuri's breath hitches at the familiar form of his name, his head swimming. Is...this how Yuuri felt every time Viktor touched him? Kissed him? No wonder he always looked so entranced. Yuri bites his lips for only a moment before he opens them up to grant Viktor entrance. He deepens the kiss as Yuri moans in Viktor’s mouth, allows himself to be consumed. Feeling him harden, Yuri grinds against his hips, and Viktor sucks in a breath.

“ _God_ , Yura,” the silver-haired skater whispers as he rest his forehead against his, looking into his eyes. Viktor is flushed, and Yuri can hear his calm unraveling in the slight tremor of his voice. “Ready?”

Yuri swallows, panting, and nods.

Viktor turns him around to face Yuuri and hooks both of the blond’s hands into his belt. Yuri’s heart thunders in his chest, the reality of it now sinking in, his focus trained on Yuuri and the sumptuous curl of his lips. He presses close to Viktor’s chest, and Viktor restrains his arms. “Tell us when it's too much.”

Yuuri drags his hand up along Yuri’s erection to bring a moan from deep within his throat. Yuri wants to lean forward, to devour the dark-haired man in his entirety, but Viktor’s arms keep him bound, straining his shoulders in the most elegant, exquisite way. The more he resists, the stronger Viktor’s grip. Yuuri rises on his toes to kiss Yuri’s neck, his collarbone as he completely unbuttons his shirt, leaving behind a trail of cool shocks that race through Yuri’s form.

Then, for a moment, Katsuki Yuuri can only stare. Yuri’s skin is pale, almost delicate, and the taut muscles of his torso just begged to be touched. Yuuri watches his chest rise and fall with his quickened breath, watches the plane of his belly contract as he traces thin, tickling lines down to the lip of his belt. Yuri flushes slightly at the attention, but refuses to look away, Yuuri’s expression too enthralled to miss.

Yuuri brushes back the shirt fabric and his mouth finds Yuri’s nipple, the warmth of his tongue teasing the deliciously pink nub. Yuri groans low at the sensation, body rolling as he feels Yuuri’s tongue and teeth pull and massage at it until it rises, pert and nearly aching.

“Oh... Daddy, listen to kitten _purr_.”

Viktor hums in response, his breath soft against his neck but rapid. Viktor falling quiet was enough to make Yuri nervous, but he could feel the older man slowly building his own pleasure behind him. Suddenly, Viktor kisses just below his ear, further pulling back his arms as Yuri shivers, wanting more, the pain of it heightening his pleasure.

I heard you call my name,” Yuuri says as he sinks to his knees, keeping eye contact, the outline of his erection now clear against his dark slacks. A mix of excitement and embarrassment rises in Yuri’s chest as another tremor racks through his body, Yuuri’s hand sliding up and down his length, the pressure light, maddening. “Is this what I do to you?"

_Yes..._

Yuri strains forward. If he could _just_ get his hands on Yuuri...He salivates at the thought of being beneath him as the dark-haired man rides him, nipples peaked, caught in his own ecstasy, his back arching beautifully…

Yuuri increases his pressure and speed and Yuri almost unravels, thrusting against him. He bites back a gasping moan as Viktor holds him tight against his shaking, murmuring sweet encouragements in his ear. But Yuri still can't catch his breath. He felt as if he were losing control in the most intoxicating way, enveloped in a sort of pleasure previously unknown to him.

Then all at once, Yuri remembers where they are, realizes what's happening, and his entire body stiffens, wide eyes drifting to the door. If someone were to walk in now…

He tries and fails to say something, Viktor’s teeth on his ear and Yuuri’s sweet massaging turning his words into half-formed moans. Yuuri follows his gaze and smirked, his fingers teasing the front his slacks. “Shhh. It's taken care of.”

Yuri didn't have time to think on what that meant. Katsuki Yuuri had his belt and slacks undone within a breath, and he slowly pulls them down to expose the bulge at the front of Yuri’s black shorts. His tip has soaked them through, precum pooling beautifully to run along his shaft. Yuuri licks the outer fabric and watches Yuri’s every expression as he convulsed, grinning at his reaction. He places both hands on the side of Yuri's hips as they shift forward desperately to meet him.

"Don't move.”

Yuuri pulls at the band of his underwear, letting it drag and press and graze over his every inch. Yuri gasps and hunches forward, his flush spreading low to darken his nipples, and a lock of blond hair cascades over his shoulder. Katsuki Yuuri revels in the sight for only a moment before he meets Viktor’s eyes and Yuri is pulled back into place.

Then he is exposed completely. Yuuri and Viktor both make a sound, not a sigh or a moan, but one of admiration. Lust. Yuuri rubs the skin of his hips with his thumbs as his eyes drink in his form, his girth, his length. Yuri could practically see his thoughts displayed on his face and he averts his eyes for a moment, silent and embarrassed.

“Viktor...Viktor, he's beautiful.”

"Every part of him is,” Viktor agrees as he grazes Yuri’s neck with his teeth. He bites down once, hard, quickly chasing the pain with the soothing warmth of his tongue. For a brief second, Yuri wishes he hadn't, the pain almost reaching the level of exquisite.

Yuuri handles him with a light touch. The enraptured blond watches as he presses those beautiful lips to the tip of his cock, sending a hot jolt through his groin. Once, twice, again and again Yuuri kisses his tip at a torturous pace, slow, savoring, the taste and scent of him thick and enticing. The blond whimpers at the sensations and sinks hard into Viktor’s chest, precum dripping from him. Yuuri laps at it, swirling his tongue around his slit, his tip, Yuuri’s face a devilish mask. Then, he pauses, waiting. He gives Yuri a chance to catch his breath, then takes him fully into his mouth, sucking and tasting and gauging his total sensitivity.

Swearing, Yuri loses himself to the motions of Yuuri’s tongue. The sounds of his wet mouth sliding on him, lips and tongue and throat adjusting the pressure, draw from Yuri unintelligible Russian. His grip on Viktor’s belt tightens as he resists his first instinct to thrust into Yuuri’s mouth, though his body rolls in rhythm with his pace as if pursuing pleasure on its own.

“Ahhhh but don't move, Yura,” Viktor whispers in his ear. His voice is husky, clouded. “Just like that. Stay still. Enjoy him.”

Then Yuuri picks up speed, and the friction is almost unbearable, sweet and warm and intoxicating. Yuri whimpers, gritting his teeth, twitching as he resists the urge to react. Staring up at him, Yuuri pulls back, giving him only a moment to breathe before slowly sinking down, deep, holding his gaze. His nose reaches the tuft of blond hair on his pelvis, and Yuri loses his voice altogether, the heat that surrounds him intense. The feeling of Yuuri massaging him, swallowing him once, then again, and again, and again arches his back against his will.

Yuri’s heartbeat is almost too fast, his breathing too ragged, his orgasm dangerously close and rising too quickly. He feels his nipples stiffen as his balls twitch with building pressure. Yuri swallows, tries to regain his voice, but when Yuuri draws back to plunge down on him again, his throat sticks and any sound from him is cut off by the force of his shaking.

He tries again, louder this time, fighting through the fog and the ecstasy, ignoring the voice that claws at him to chase completion. “Ahh...Hold on, Yu-Yuur...aah! Yuuri...I think... God... please, I -- Fuck,Yuuri, stop!”

Yuuri immediately extricates himself and Viktor releases his arms. Yuri collapses against him, trembling head to toe and gasping for air. Viktor wraps his arms around his middle to keep him standing.

“Are you okay?” Viktor asks, but Yuri can only nod, his breath too ragged for anything more.

From tip to base, the entire length of him is red and aching, begging for relief, and Yuri shuts his eyes, desperate to draw himself back from the edge.

“Shhhh, we've got you, just breathe,” Yuuri says as the younger skater whimpers despite himself. Yuuri slowly rubs up and down his thighs, comforting him, reassuring him, as he rolls through tremor after tremor. “It's okay, don't fight it. Ah, I should have stopped sooner. I'm so sorry.”

_Don't be._

But he still can't get any words out. Yuri clings to Viktor as the two skaters give him time, kissing him here, stroking him there. When Yuri lets out a large breath, Viktor kisses his temple as he slowly starts to regain control.

“Do you need to stop?”

Yuri slowly shakes his head no.

“Do you... _want_ to stop?” Yuuri asks. His voice is small.

He shakes his head harder, opening his eyes, and Viktor hums with delight. Yuuri lands a chaste kiss on his hip bone, and Yuri hisses into a moan, jerking back at the beautiful sensation.

Viktor grins against his shoulder. “He's better than you imagined, isn't he?”

Yuri nods, blushing hard. Viktor rolls Yuri’s nipple between his fingers and his stomach leapt, his back arching once again. Yuri fixes the skater with a glare, though he simply receives a kiss on the cheek in response. The smug bastard.

Yuri twists to look at Viktor fully, tapping on his arm that held him. “May I?”

Viktor releases him without a word and in one fluid motion, Yuri sinks down and takes Yuuri’s face in both hands. Yuuri gasp as he kisses him, long and slow and deep. The taste of his precum is strong on Yuuri’s lips, and it only excites him more. When he pulls away, Yuuri’s cheeks are bright and round, his eyes alive and dancing. “Don't you dare apologize for that. That was incredible.”

“You're sure?”

Yuri looks him in the eye as a grin spreads across his face, incredulous and in awe of this man who had brought him to such an unbelievable point, had stolen his breath, nearly swept him away. Slowly, as if in answer, he brushes his lips against Yuuri’s once more. He’s gentle, so very gentle, running his tongue along Yuuri’s bottom lip, asking, hoping, _praying_ he understands, his own heart hammering at the intimacy of his plea. Yuuri relaxes into it, opening to meet his need, allowing the blond to explore his mouth. Then...something shifts. Carefully, he takes control of the kiss, sitting back as the blond towers over him. He places both hands low on his back, nipping at him hard to stir the desire in Yuri’s belly once more. Yuri grins, responding in kind, leaning into it, asking for more, hyper-aware of what these lips, this mouth, this man can do.

Yuuri pulls away just enough for him to protest, to follow downward, searching for him, only to find him just out of reach. Yuuri’s expression is entirely changed, his hunger only half-sated. “And you’re...sure you’re okay?”

Yuri caresses his face with his thumbs, and goes to kiss him again, but Yuuri gently evades him, shaking his head. He slides his hands behind Yuri’s thighs and pulls him onto his lap, and the blond’s hands drop to his shoulders for balance. Yuri holds him close, lips tasting the skin of his chest as he calls to the hunger in the blond, ghosting over his erection, tempting him. “Not until you tell me. I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m...” Yuri moans at the touch, the increasing pressure drawing him back in as his mind begins to fog. The dark-haired man then bites at his collarbone, stroking him slowly, and Yuri’s moan morphs into a stuttering gasp, his hips rolling. “I’m fine.”

Yuuri hums into his skin, relieved. It was a different sound coming from him than Viktor. Sweeter somehow, but just as playful. He takes Yuri’s wrists and slowly unbuttons one cuff, then the other, his fingers lingering on the delicate skin there. Each touch felt intimate, personal, and Yuri held his breath as though any small disturbance may spoil it. Then Yuuri guides him out of it entirely, smiling as Viktor inhales. The blond peeks over his shoulder to find the silver-haired skater leaning against the wall, watching the two of them intently. He was painfully hard and radiating desire. Viktor crossed his arms as he fidgeted, as if fighting not to satisfy himself, and Yuri salivated at the cracks in his self-control.

Yuuri pulls him closer, resuming his stroking, and peers up at Viktor, kissing Yuri’s neck, his jaw, breath hot against his skin. “Let Daddy see you.”

The blond blooms red in his arms. He hesitates for an imperceptible moment before he takes his long hair and drapes it gracefully over his shoulder. Viktor’s eyes devour Yuri’s every inch: the taut, muscular form of his arms and back, the fine slope of his waist, the deep valley of his spine, the plump curve of his ass that rose above his slacks.

“I told you he was beautiful.”

Yuri thought he was used to being noticed, being seen. On the ice, the bright lights and the cheering crowds, the judges and the cameras -- none of it phased him. But under these dim lights, in this tight space, with just the three of them -- his skin tingles at the attention, covering him in goosebumps as his heart beats all the faster. Yuuri continues to massage him slowly, exploring Yuri’s every inch, watching his every expression, listening to his every breath hitch and sigh. He leans forward to take his nipple into his mouth, lips dancing across his skin from one to the other. Biting and sucking, he worries them until Yuri is red and shivering hard, drops of precum beading from his tip.

“Look how sensitive you are.”

Yuri’s breath stutters as Yuuri’s hands slides down to dip beneath the band of his underwear. He grasps and explores the bare, smooth skin of his ass, the muscular form, spreading him apart, lifting him up. The blond shifts his legs wider, his thigh grinding against the firmness of Yuuri’s cock, and Yuuri tenses, smothering the sounds of his forbidden pleasure against his shoulder, his nails biting into him.

“Yura…” Viktor warns as the blonde smiles down at Yuuri. It seems as though he wasn't the only one who was sensitive.

“...I'll be more careful, I promise.”

Yuuri takes a breath, steadying himself, cheeks now warm and flushed deeper. He reaches lower, fingertips grazing the blond’s balls with a light touch, face smug as Yuri’s eyes flutter closed. His hips lift to meet him, rocking back, pressing against him more, and Yuri groans as the massage ends much, much too soon. Yuuri then travels upward to slip a finger between his cheeks, pressing against the twitching warmth of his opening. A shock runs up Yuri’s spine as he whimpers, nipples slowly rising.

“And you're so responsive, too.”

Yuuri’s tongue is soft against his skin, worrying every tiny spot on which they landed, and for a brief moment, the blond feels his ecstasy surge. The attentiveness of his every touch, the sweet pliant tone of his voice drove him closer and closer to the edge, feeling safe in his lap, calm in his arms, able to fall, ensured that he’d be caught.

But...there was also something to the feeling of Viktor’s arms, a different type of assurance. The presence of his height, the strength of his voice, the sturdiness of his chest -- all called to him in a way Yuri hadn't expected, couldn't explain. It was as if Viktor appealed to the part of himself he never knew how to sate.

Yuuri notices his sidelong glances, his wetting of his lips, his rolling of his body, and a warm understanding colors his face. “Do you want Daddy to join us?”

Yuri looks at him surprised. Then, sinking into his grip, he nods. Yuuri’s eyes slide over to Viktor, mischievous. “...Then call him.”

Following his gaze, Yuri bites his lip as he stares up at Viktor behind him. The silver-haired skater exhales, swallowing hard as he keeps his eyes trained on them both, the entirety of him coursing with tightly bound energy. Just as Yuri opens his mouth, the dark-haired man drags his tongue across his nipple, and Yuri stutters his words. “ _Haah_...V-Viktor...”

“Ah, ah… that's not how you do it.” Yuuri rubs his finger across his entrance, feeling him sigh and twitch and rock against him. “You know how.”

“Yuuri...” Viktor warns, and the dark-haired skater just grins in response.The blond pauses, trying not to blush as he realizes what he meant.

“And if I... _don't_...call him that?”

“Oh, but you should,” Yuuri grins as he licks up his neck, and he shivers. “You'll be amazed by what it can do. Come now, try again.”

Yuri meets Viktor’s gaze and the air is heavy about them, charged, both of them strung taut and ready to break. Yuuri’s eyes flit between the two and he hums, pressing against the blond's entrance in encouragement. Yuri takes a breath, opens his mouth and Viktor shifts. Then Yuuri pulsed his fingers on his opening and the word suddenly spills forth, gasping, lustful. “... _Daddy_."

Viktor swears, uncrossing his arms as he pushes off the wall to them. Yuri’s heart leaps as Viktor lowers to a knee and kisses him, deeply, fingers bunching tight in his blond hair, spreading goosebumps along his skin. Instantly, Yuri bites back a gasp, all at once feeling too small and too open in Viktor’s arms. He still wasn't used to the feeling, and he almost recoiled again. But something... something about Viktor’s kiss, his grip felt...pleading. It steals his breath and calls to that insatiable part of him, that very small voice telling him to follow it.

Chase it.

And so, heart hammering in his chest, Yuri does exactly that. He pulls away just far enough to stare at those beautiful lips, to wonder just how much pleasure they provide, and how much pleasure he could provide them.

“Tell Daddy what you want.”

His eyes flick up to Viktor’s then away, and attempts not to blush too hard. “I…I want to come.”

“Then you will. Hands here.” Viktor taps on his belt, and Yuri shifts closer, holding on with a small shake in his grip.

Viktor glides down his waist to take his length into his hands. Yuri resists the urge to cover his face, embarrassed, only gripping his belt tighter as Viktor begins to stroke him. His hips roll with the motion, slowly, Viktor’s thumb grazing beneath his tip until he’s dripping with precum. But the feel of his hand, the confidence in his touch...it’s almost soothing. It coaxes from him a deep moan, the tension from his shoulders releasing with a breath.

Viktor notices the small change, and glances up at Yuuri almost in awe. Both can feel the tiny tremors that bring about his moans in gentle waves, his voice growing ragged as Viktor passes over his slit. The dark-haired man reached down further, squeezing and grazing the delicate skin of his balls, increasing the pressure of Yuri’s pleasure.

“Please…both of you,” he moans. “Can’t you just... fuck me already?”

The silver-haired skater hums, almost a contented laugh deep in his throat, and Yuri can feel the rumbling all the way in his toes. “We don't have what we need.”

Yuri rolls his body harder. “ _Please_ , I don't care.”

Viktor’s breath catches in his throat and his voice returns strained. “Shhh, be patient. You're already doing so well.”

Yuuri presses at his opening once more, feeling him give just a little and massaging him in tiny circles. The gentle friction arches the blond’s back. “Now thrust. Show Daddy you want him to touch you.”

“Yuuri…” Viktor whispers, his half-hearted warning falling away as Yuri does as he’s told, thrusting into Viktor’s hand, his slickened fingers rolling and sliding and causing the blond to shiver. Viktor releases a shaking breath as he watches the muscles of Yuri’s torso release and contract.

Yuri’s heart rate starts to increase, and he buries his face in Viktor’s neck, whimpering as heat spreads from his groin deep into his belly. He thrusts and presses into their touch, feeling his breath grow heavy and loud, his orgasm building. His fingers claw at Viktor’s belt for purchase but they've gone clammy, almost weak, as Viktor slides his other hand down the muscular plane of Yuri’s stomach, feeling spasm after spasm as the young man tries on his own to extend the pleasure.

“Oh...God…” Yuri’s cheeks deepens to a magnificent shade of red. It travels courses over his chest and back as Viktor strokes him faster, feeling his hips lift and shift and quicken in response. Yuri’s hand slips as he leans forward, knotting his fists in fabric of Viktor’s slacks. His long hair falls messily about his his face, his shoulders, and Yuuri noticeably takes a breath. “Ahhn… _please_ , just… ah... _fuck_....”

“Shhh, Yura, not yet.”

Viktor shifts him back into place as Yuri’s tongue flicks out. He brushes against Viktor’s neck and shivers at the groan Viktor tries to conceal. Viktor strokes him faster, harder, drawing a moan from Yuri as his nipples rise, convulsing hard.

“Lean back, Yuri. Just a little farther,” Yuuri instructs, his voice thick, eyes watching both of their faces through his own passion. “Let Daddy see you come.”

Yuri’s voice shakes with Viktor’s increased speed, and the blond lets loose a string of breathless swears, sinking hard into Viktor’s chest. He stiffens, his thrusts jerking and shallow, and Yuuri moves his hands to his hips, guiding his rhythm as his gasping moans fade to silence...

“Now come for us.”

Yuri’s voice tears from his throat as his orgasm hits, racking his body and seizing him with pleasure. His thickness spills over Viktor’s hand as he breathes into his neck, his head swimming and body rolling uncontrollably. Viktor brushes back his hair and Yuuri holds him still, smiling as every tremor passes, the vibrations singing through them both. Yuri gasps as Viktor milks him slowly, admiring the ecstasy plain on his face.

Then Yuri’s entire world falls still, the only sound in his ears his pounding heart and ragged breath. He can feel the soothings of Viktor and Yuuri -- a kiss on the stomach, caress on the ear -- but they feel almost distant as his head still swims and his brows furl tight. That was...like nothing he’d ever known, and for the first time, he feels...sated.

Gradually, Yuri eases back into his senses, mind clearing breath returning. When he opens his eyes Viktor and Yuuri are there to greet him. Another hard tremor racks through him as Viktor kisses his forehead then his lips, staring at the blond with those cerulean eyes. Yuri searches his face, then looks down, speechless. Yuuri is there stroking his hips, grinning up at him.

“Hey there,” Viktor purrs, stroking Yuri’s arm with the back of his hand. His eyes are bright, calm, curious. “You okay?”

Yuri tries to sit up, running a hand through his hair. He goes a bit light-headed, swearing through another tense tremor. His brow wrinkles as he falls back. Viktor’s chest is so solid behind him, and Yuuri hands so warm. _So this...really wasn't a dream?_

“Yura?”

Yuri bites his lip, his growing smile in conflict with his own confusion. He couldn't allow himself to indulge too long in this, because once it ended, once _they_ ended, he didn't know if he’d be able to go back. He had to prepare himself. Yuri nods instead, not trusting his voice quite yet as he fought against the contentment that wanted to settle in his belly.

“Good.”

Viktor helps lift him up, and Yuuri gladly accepts him into his arms, shifting his weight to accommodate him. Viktor stands, removing his tie as he heads to the sink. The blond wraps his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders and allows himself one last indulgence before he has to come fully to his senses. The running water of the sink, sharp footfalls against the tile floor, and the even breaths of the man that held him, Yuri soaks it all in, commits it all to memory as Yuuri coaches him through his aftershocks.

When Viktor returns, his tie is dampened and he kneels, handing it to Yuuri. “Come on, sit back now.” Yuri does as he’s told as the dark haired skater glides the soft fabric across his forehead, his chest, his stomach. He passes it over his softening member, and Yuri braces himself against one last tremor, whimpering. Viktor and Yuuri share a smirk, a little proud of themselves, and Viktor draws Yuuri’s chin towards him. He leans in close and Yuuri’s breathing practically stops.

“And _you _,”__ Viktor says as he hovers over Yuuri’s lips, both of them completely enraptured, “are going to be the end of me one day. Don't teach him things like that.”

“By which, of course, you mean I absolutely should.”

Viktor chuckles, “Yes, of course.”

Their kiss is soft, gentle, the kiss of two lovers forever devout. As Yuuri sighs into it, a shiver of his own rolls through him, and Viktor’s gold ring glints in the dim light. Yuri….tried not to notice them before but now he can feel the other against his bare skin, a reminder of just how temporary this all really was.

_Right. We walk out of here, and this all ends._

With a sigh Yuri has to look away. He starts to remove himself but Yuuri and Viktor hold him still, and shock runs through him. Both skaters peer at him as they kiss, now playful, teasing.

“And where... are you going?”

Yuri’s gaze dances between the two, and he blinks. _Does that mean…?_

Yuuri lands a chaste kiss on his shoulder, Viktor kissing his temple, and Yuri’s heart leaps into his throat. The warmth that he has been trying so hard to suppress blooms uncontrollably throughout him, spreading over him, flooding him. He tries to turns away, but neither of them will let hide. They hold him still, hold his gaze.

“Didn't you hear me earlier? We are yours as much as you are ours, Yura.”

“So,” Yuuri says, stroking his cheek with the back of his hand, his brown eyes so clearly taken with him, “we'll ask again: where are you going?”

“I…” Yuri runs a hand through his hair, looking up at the both of them as he tries to suppress his blush and the feeling of himself rising once more. “Nowhere."

“Very good.” Viktor stands stretching long and lean, twisting this way and that. “Now get dressed, both of you."

“What?” Yuri blinks his surprise as Yuuri finishes wiping him down, affectionately kissing his chin, his ear. He returns the blond fully into his underwear and adjusts his clothing back into place. Zips up his slacks. “Why? I thought...I thought we could...”

“Continue?” Viktor’s expression is a smile half-formed. He strokes the top of his head, the blond strands silken as they slip between his fingers. “Oh, Yura, you deserve way more than getting fucked in a bathroom.”


End file.
